


(Up Close and) Personal Assistant

by lazarusthefirst



Series: Trope bingo [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward, Bodyguard!Scott, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Humour, M/M, PA!Stiles, Skittles, Threesome, Vaginal Sex, celebrity/PA/bodyguard, movie director!Malia, vague casual abstract mentions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 01:38:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2410289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazarusthefirst/pseuds/lazarusthefirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malia is a famous horror movie director. Stiles is her PA, and occasional fuck buddy, and decides she needs a bodyguard. Total coincidence that Malia hires Stiles's best friend and long lost almost-lover, Scott. Total coincidence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Up Close and) Personal Assistant

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a slow writing/beta week due to getting hired and fired but hey I'm back with the next trope: Celebrity + PA/bodyguard AU (but two is better than three amirite?) This was inspired by yet another filthy conversation with [SOMEONE](http://unfortunatelyderek.tumblr.com/). Anyways.

Malia loved her job. Really, she did. As a particularly unflinching, uncompromising horror movie director, she got to literally scare the living daylights out of people and get paid ridiculous amounts of money to do so. Her fanbase was both devoted and refreshingly creepy, to the point where she'd receive entrails in the post in some clever homage to Sam Raimi and think "Damn, I wish I'd thought of that first."

Stiles, her perky, doe-eyed PA, wasn't so enthused by her fan attention.

"Ms. Tate, PLEASE, I can't deal with trying to wrestle ghouls off your front porch anymore," he begged. "Especially when they're covered in pigs blood. At least I _hope_ it was pigs blood.'

'It might not have been, actually,' Malia pointed out around a mouthful of steak. Stiles was bouncing nervously on his bar stool, tapping on his phone in an agitated manner.

'Please don't tell me that,' he whispered, closing his eyes briefly. 'I'm emailing you some bodyguard profiles. _Please_ choose one. Choose any one. Choose five, if you want. God knows, you can afford it.'

Malia swirled around on her stool, pretending to admire the fine architecture in her home while she thought about it.

'Alright, you gotta help me out here, Stiles,' she said slowly. 'Pros and cons of getting a bodyguard. Go.'

Stiles sat up straight; phone abandoned, his hands went into counting mode.

'Ok, I mean just for one thing, I won't have to fight the fanboys who are convinced you really do want to fuck them,' he said waspishly. 'Secondly, I wouldn't have to deal with the _entrails_ in the fucking _mail_. Thirdly, I wouldn't have to live in fear that some Mark David Chapman freak is gonna take your shit as literal and either try to kill you or me or a high school full of kids.'

'I'm hearing a lot of _I_ and _me_ sentences here, Stiles,' said Malia, gesturing with her fork. A piece of steak hung on the end, and she popped it into her mouth as Stiles floundered. 'Not a whole lot of Malia in there.'

'Are you going to make me beg?' asked Stiles seriously.

'Thinking about it,' winked Malia.

Honestly, she had been considering it, the whole bodyguard thing. She liked Stiles a whole lot, and didn't like to see him trying to fend off supremely massive sweaty fanboys desperate to paw her at best, and at worst get her to read their script (which was always based around some sort of terrifying, deformed, or murderous female who must be destroyed). Malia made a lot of public appearances. Her comics were getting turned into movies and her movies were getting turned into comics, and the press were getting harder to cope with, particularly since the only one she trusted to handle her affairs was Stiles, and he was 160lbs soaking wet. Adorable, but definitely not personal security material. Malia was able to handle herself; it was Stiles's skinny frame and easily bruised skin that concerned her.  

She was the only one allowed to mark up that pretty neck.

'I'm just teasing you,' she smiled. 'You're so tense, Stiles.'

'I’m still wound up from that shoot today,' he confessed running a hand over his face. 'All that screaming...'

'Lydia's the best, though,' Malia reminded him. 'I've worked with actresses who've needed whole days to work up to a scream like hers, but Lydia just churns them out like it's no big deal.'

'She is pretty awesome,' admitted Stiles. Then his eyes widened. 'Hey, her bodyguard is _huge._ I should ask her manager what agency she's with.'

Malia rolled her eyes. 'Don’t bother,' she said. 'I've already got someone in mind.'

Stiles looked up from where he was tapping away frantically on his phone. 'Really? Who?'

Malia shrugged. 'It’s still in the works. I'm interviewing this one myself because I feel like no one will be good enough for you.'

Stiles sniffed. 'Is it wrong to want the best for my boss?' He asked, sounding just a touch offended. Malia grinned.

'I already _have_ the best,' she pointed out.

Stiles frowned. 'What? Who are you talking about?'

Malia raised her eyebrows and suddenly Stiles's expression cleared.

'Oh - OH. You mean me. Well.' He sounded only a little bit modest. Malia rolled her eyes.

'Come on,' she said, smiling wryly at him. 'How bout you show me how good you really are.'

Stiles grinned excitedly as Malia hopped off her stool and pulled him towards the stairs. That had been happening for a while now, ever since Malia had gotten really drunk at a launch party and an almost as drunk Stiles had bravely defended her from a mob of adoring fans. Malia had ridden him in the back seat of the limo, as a mutually beneficial thank you than anything else, but found that she actually quite enjoyed herself. Stiles was more than happy to keep things going, so every now and then she brought Stiles upstairs and hopped on his cute little dick (not actually so little, but Malia had grown rather fond of it). She would have taken it further - Stiles certainly would have agreed to it - but she had detected a certain longing in his voice when he mentioned a certain best friend, whose work had taken him an unreasonable distance away from Malia's home in Beverly Hills. More than the usual 'I really miss my BFF' longing, and more of the 'I probably would be fucking my best friend if he was still in the same zip code' kind.

It was just lucky, really, Malia thought, as she held Stiles's head between her thighs later that night, that Scott McCall was in the personal security business.

 

Malia would have probably given Scott the job either way - he had glowing references from three past employers, who'd only let him go because their popularity had diminished to the point where it was difficult to afford to keep him on - but seeing how badly Scott had jumped when she'd mentioned that Stiles would soon be back from his lunch sealed the deal for her.

'Oh yeah, wow. Stiles.' Scott had to clear his throat. 'I don't know if he mentioned, but we used to be best friends. We still are, I guess. But, you know, distance and all that.' Scott was blushing faintly, looking a bit uncomfortable in his impressive suit. Malia smirked.

'Yes, he's my PA,' she confessed, like it was nothing. 'He has a room in my house, for convenience sake. Speaks very highly of you.' Well, the hushed phone calls to their mutual friend Allison indicated this high praise, but Malia had only overheard those when Stiles thought she was asleep. They were conversations often tinged with longing, and sadness. If he returned to bed to find Malia awake, it would take him roughly five seconds to get hard. Malia didn't mind; she didn't love Stiles, but she was very fond of him, and wanted to see him happy. If that meant sacrificing her live-in bootycall, well, she could find another one. This was Beverly Hills, after all.

Scott, she noticed, was extremely attractive. She could see what Stiles meant when he'd whispered about "a jawline that could kill a man" on the phone to the mysterious Allison, who Malia would certainly like to meet as she surely had fantastic dirt on both her employees.

She hired Scott on the spot - who has time for second interviews? - and told him to liaise with Stiles to sort out hours, duties, and living arrangements. Malia was so glad she could leave all of that housekeeping shit to Stiles, but took great pleasure in insisting on accompanying Scott back to the house. She had a feeling that it would be better to let Scott and stiles get reacquainted by themselves first before she ordered them to work together user her nose. Which was, of course, why she insisted on being there to witness the whole glorious reunion. All that potential for blushing? Malia couldn't miss it.

Scott was very professional. He checked under the car and surveyed the area before allowing the driver to take them home. His small suitcase was in the trunk; Malia had an idea that it contained 6 identical suits to the one he was wearing, and a straight razor. Maybe some lube too, but nothing else.

'So, Scott,' she tried, once they were in the car. She jigged her leg, hungry because of her missed breakfast and excited to present Scott to Stiles. She hadn't actually told him she was interviewing today, just that she _was_ interviewing. He'd been having a bit of a canary that morning, something about a deer head on the lawn that he'd had cleared up before Malia had gotten up, but he was still stressing about it so she slipped out the door while he was still screeching down the phone at lawyers. Despite the pitch of his voice, Malia suspected stiles liked having someone to yell at after a scare. "How did you get into the personal security business?'

Scott glanced out the window, then turned and smiled at her; a tight, polite smile. Professional. 'I lift, a lot. And I needed money. Turns out I'm pretty good at being a bodyguard, so I stayed on and did the training. It's good.'

Malia nodded, realising this told her roughly nothing about his relationship with Stiles, which to be fair was all she really wanted to know at this point.

'And that meant you had to move away from where you grew up?'

Scott glanced at her again. 'Yeah, the training was in Seattle. I left home round about the same time Stiles came out here.' He blinked, as though he was startled that he'd mentioned Stiles so quickly. Malia wanted to rub her hands with glee.

'Speaking of Stiles, I should probably let him know we're coming home for lunch,' Malia said, like this had only just occurred to her. She dug out her phone, watching Scott shift just imperceptibly in his seat. Malia smirked, but then frowned as she looked at her phone.

She was so used to Stiles managing it that she had quite forgotten to check it for the last four hours.

She had fourteen calls and thirty texts. Only four of those _weren't_ from Stiles.

_"Where are you? Tonights meeting w Raimi postponed - he has food poisoning."_

Good, thought Malia, stretching out in her seat. She'd forgotten all about it.

_"Where are you?? Why am I getting calls from ProSecure talking about setting up payroll?"_

_"Did you hire a bodyguard? Without even TELLING ME."_

_"When does he start?"_

_"Ms Tate does the bodyguard start today I need to know."_

_"MS TATE PLEASE."_

_"Malia did you hire my best friend on purpose."_

_"I quit."_

Malia rolled her eyes and told the driver to stop by the 7/11 so she could get some Reese's as bargaining chips. Stiles threatened to quit at least twice a week. He never would, but he could throw quite the strop when he felt like Malia was being particularly difficult. This led to bargaining and negotiations and Malia eventually conceding to things like hiring a permanent driver, screening her online shopping orders for bloody additions ("pig ears! In the cauliflower! AGAIN!" stormed Stiles, as they discovered that clearly someone at their local supermarket was a Tate horror fan) and getting a personal security system installed in her house. Malia had been expecting similar ultimatums if she'd refused getting a bodyguard; she hadn't anticipated them upon actually getting one.

'Sweet tooth?' asked Scott, looking out the window at where they were.

'No, but Stiles stress eats,' Malia explained, fumbling around in her purse for her money. 'And I may have stressed him out today by not checking my phone for...a while.'

She made to get out of the car, but Scott leapt into action.

'No, let me, Ms. Tate,' she said firmly, putting out a hand to open the door. Malia hesitated.

'Ok, but you have to get him - '

'Reese's peanut butter cups, I know,' Scott said, like he'd had to purchase similar bargaining chips before. Somehow this made Malia feel a lot better about hiring him, and more excited to get home and see how hard Stiles freaked out when he saw Scott in his sexy suit. She was fully prepared to throw the Reece's and run, but that initial reaction would keep her warm at night.

Scott returned, Reese's clutched like an armed grenade. Malia told the driver to go, and as they rolled up into the more expensive side of Beverly Hills, Malia could sense excitement and anxiety seeping through that cool bodyguard calm to her right.

Scott did a sweep of the perimeter before he allowed her to open the door. Malia was ferociously impatient, and resolved to set down a few ground rules as to what exactly she required from Scott, but right now she just wanted to get inside the house.

Since Stiles had a heads up, Malia wasn't entirely surprised when she entered to find the house spotless and Stiles nowhere to be seen. The cook was cooking, judging by the smells, and Malia knew instantly that Stiles was pissed, because that was chili she could smell. She hated chili.

Before either of them could wonder where Stiles was, a loud clatter from upstairs drew both their gaze up to the landing balcony. Stiles appeared looking flustered and tousled, not at all his usual well-groomed self like how Malia had expected.

He looked - well, he looked post-orgasm.

'Stiles,' Scott said, startled.

'Scott,' Stiles breathed. Yep, definitely post-orgasm.

'Stiles,' she said wryly, looking from one to the other. Oh, there was blushing.

Stiles stumbled down the stairs, even less graceful than usual. Scott's eyes were trained on his best friend as they arrived face to face, less than a foot apart.

'Hey,' he said, and there was a light on behind his face that Malia hadn't seen before. His whole body seemed to glow as he took in Stiles's nervous, awkward figure.

'It’s so good to see you,' he continued,' and his voice was so warm and sincere that Malia felt herself melt a little bit.

Stiles's lower lip wobbled a little, and suddenly he flung himself into Scott's embrace. Their arms wrapped tightly around each other as they rocked silently back as forth, Scott’s thumb brushing Stiles’s bony shoulder blade. Malia watched in amazement. Maybe they were more composed and professional than she'd given them credit for. She'd kind of been expecting stammering and maybe a boner or two? Was that so much to ask for? She was fairly positive that Stiles felt that way about Scott, and she believed that personal happiness contributed to a high work performance. Which was PR-speak for the fact that she herself always worked better when she was getting sex on the regular.

But as it turned out, Scott and Stiles worked surprisingly well in close quarters. After they'd taken care of the bookkeeping, Scott got to doing bodyguard duties, including but not limited to checking Malia's groceries and purchases, the scripts arriving to her house, the care packages sent to her from friends and admirers, the boxes of sample props and costumes sent by coworkers, and doing general security things that ended with him standing solidly by the front door, stern and silent, while Malia and Stiles drank and contemplated silently how they were ever going to get laid. At least, that's what Malia was thinking about.

They fell into a routine that mostly consisted off Malia feeling both safe and smothered, and Stiles being in generally a better mood due to the lack of blood and guts he had to clean up. Scott accompanied Malia and Stiles to her current movie set which was just beginning pre-production. Scott was extremely tense at Malia being exposed to so many loonies, particularly since most people were dressed like loonies whether they were or not. It was just the nature of the job. Stiles, however, was as carefree as Malia had ever seen him. He laughed and joked with her, fetching her pastries and snacks just to make her smile, and murmured in her ear _very_ suggestively about alternate uses for some of the props.

Malia was pleased; she'd kind of assumed that she was pimping Stiles out and this automatically meant she'd lose the rights to his sweet ass, but apparently Stiles was still interested in snuggling up to her. Which he did, in the back of the car on the way home, while Scott sat quietly in the front seat. Malia wondered idly if he was trying to make Scott jealous, but instantly dismissed the thought. Stiles just wasn't like that.

And even though their sex that night was vigorous and lengthy, Malia sensed a definite effort on Stiles's part to stay quiet. Scott was just two doors down the hall.

 

 Malia managed to escape Scott three days later by sprinting out to the car and hissing at the driver to go before Scott could catch her. She realized it was unfair to hire a bodyguard and then not let him bodyguard, but she had a lunch with Eli Roth and those tended to get raucous. There were already enough restaurant staff looking over her shoulder; she didn't need Scott too. So she trotted off to an elaborate lunch and far too many Bloody Mary's, feeling like she could take care of herself for a couple of hours. She helped herself to some complimentary chocolates before she left, thinking that Stiles might well need to be placated as an apology for ditching Scott and leaving him to fend for himself while Stiles dithered and tried to get on with his day without knowing that she was safe without either of them. It was entirely possible for Stiles to send Scott off to the restaurant anyways – he of course knew where she’d be eating, as he knew everything about her schedule – but it wouldn’t look good. Stiles, no matter how much he’d bitch and gripe about it, would never cause such a scene as having Malia’s bodyguard turn up separate and _late_ to watch over her. Better to let her be a renegade for a while.

Thinking of Scott and Stiles rattling around in her big old house together was giving Malia ideas. She munched on chocolate in the back seat, forgetting that they were for Stiles, and wondered what it might be like to fuck someone as muscled as Scott. Generally, she went for cuties like Stiles, or for girls. Scott had muscles to burn, and he looked like just the right amount of stoking the fire could get him nice and revved up. Idly she found herself wondering if Scott and Stiles had ever had sex, and then of course the logical progression of that thought was to wonder what that might look like, and what that might _feel_ like, for all parties concerned, including both participants and spectators. So, when she arrived home in semi-darkness - after quite enjoying her little afternoon out by herself, with no Stiles badgering her about emails and interviews and no Scott shadowing her every move and acting like every step she took may be her last - she was incidentally very horny and just a little drunk. Manageable drunk, where she wanted to do some stupid shit and thought she had just enough coordination to achieve it.

Foremost in her mind was a steak sandwich, followed by either Stiles bending her over something, or porn if he wasn’t up for it (unlikely, but always possible. He might be ill or something). What she didn't expect upon walking into her own home was to find Stiles and Scott, his beautiful suit half off and considerably rumpled, making out and rutting on the couch like a couple of teenagers.

'Well this certainly puts a spin on my evening plans,' she commented, dropping her handbag to the floor loudly.

The two guilty parties sprang apart, Stiles actually tumbling to the ground from his very comfortable position in Scott's lap. Oh, there were boners, Malia saw, happily. And some very red faces. She fished around in the pocket of her blazer for her last chocolate and unwrapped it slowly, savouring the sound the crinkly foil made in the mortified silence.

'Malia,' Stiles began, just as Scott started with 'Ms. Tate.' As much as Malia would have loved to hear their explanations, or their attempts at explanations, she just didn't think she could keep a straight face. And she was properly horny now, the jolt of having seen the two of them grinding on each other now on a slow boil in her stomach.

‘It's fine,' she interrupted, rolling her eyes. 'I’m partly to blame for this, whatever. You can both have the night off. I'll be upstairs.' She turned to go, thinking about what an amazing boss she was, and feeling just a tad bit jealous that they’d started without her.

'Wait, Malia - '

Stiles was being very informal today. Normally Malia didn’t care what the hell he called her in private, but it was quite unlike him.

'Stiles,' she said, holding up her hand. 'It’s fine, I'm not upset or mad or anything. This isn't me being passive aggressive, this is me being slightly drunk and kind of smug that my little plan worked.' She smiled at the two of them suggestively, popping the chocolate into her mouth. Scott flushed even worse than before. 'You two looked like you were about to do some _serious_ catching up, so don't let me keep you. Just make sure it's all out of your systems by tomorrow, or whatever.' Again, Malia didn't really care (Scott was a pro, and she didn't _really_ get that much fan attention or weird gifts in the mail, so she could afford to have him distracted for a little while) but she felt like it was the appropriate employer thing to say. She was already turning around again, contemplating taking one of her dildos into the bath, when Stiles made another noise of protest.

'No, Malia, that's not - not what we meant.'

Malia's spidey senses began tingling, along with other parts of her because wow, she knew that tone of voice. That was how Stiles had spoken the first time she'd assumed that their ride in the limo was just a once off and not something he'd want to repeat. She'd been wrong then and apparently she was wrong here too.

Scott and Stiles were looking at her, seeming nervous but excited. Stiles certainly was, but then, he knew her better. Scott's apprehension would have been more adorable if it weren't for the loosened tie and the boner and the way his eyes were raking over Malia's body before glancing over at Stiles, then back to Malia again.

‘You guys wanna play?' she asked slowly, not bothering to beat around the bush because who the hell has time to waste being coy? She was horny, and so were they. Malia knew she was hot as hell, and Stiles had a proven track record at making himself very useful in the bedroom. Scott’s potential could only be guessed at, but what a guess it was.

Stiles was nodding, smiling shyly now. Scott just looked stunned. Malia knew that the ball had to start rolling now before one of them backed out (and it wouldn't be her - if there was dick on the table tonight, she was getting some of it).

So she marched purposefully up to Stiles and planted a firm kiss on his lips, one hand pressed to his chest. Stiles made a happy noise and kissed her back, hands going automatically to her waist, and Malia felt his hard length against her hip.

She pulled away quickly, nipping briefly at his lip, before turning to Scott. His eyes were wide, but there was purpose now in his movements as he bent his head to meet her lips. He tasted like salt and Stiles, and his lips were soft and gentle, questioning as he learned the shape of her mouth. His hands, however, were another story. Malia made a noise of appreciation as his fingers gripped her ass tightly, squeezing as she pressed against him. Oh yes, Scott knew how to play.

She drew back, and saw a new glint in Scott's eyes as he looked down at her, lips wet and red, breathing hard.

'And now you two,' she said quietly, looking expectantly between the two of them. Considering she'd just caught them humping on her couch, they were surprisingly shy about it, turning to each other with colour on their cheeks, smiling and shrugging and kind of "you go first - no you-" until finally they met awkwardly in the middle. Once they kissed, however, all the awkwardness melted away. Their bodies crashed together as they moaned into each other’s mouths, basically taking up from where they'd left off. Malia grinned at them, watching their hands roam, and felt a thrill as Stiles cracked one eye open, and beckoned to her.

Malia scooted over quietly to join that sexy sandwich and received both of their attention pretty much immediately. They kissed her neck and face, hot, insistent kisses that occasionally strayed to each other. Stiles hands knew exactly how to play on her body, but Scott was just learning, and Malia was happy to help him out.

They stumbled backwards to the couch (Malia thinking regretfully of the big bed upstairs that there was just no way of coaxing them up to now), hands tugging, touching, pulling, mouths finding skin and lips, and Malia was wondering exactly how this was going to go since both men seemed to be like children on Christmas, neither knowing where to go first. One minute Stiles was bent over Malia, squeezing her breasts through her shirt and sucking a filthy hickey into her neck, the next he looked almost blind with arousal, tugging Scott down for a kiss that seemed to go on forever.

She ended up on her back on the couch, skirt around her waist and shirt unbuttoned, with Stiles on top of her, working away at her bra (always a challenge) and Scott behind him, pulling at Stiles’s belt. Malia was so absorbed in the attentions of Stiles’s mouth and hands that she startled when Stiles suddenly hissed in surprise and arousal, hands tightening upon her.

‘Sorry,’ murmured Scott, from where he was bent over Stiles. ‘Is this ok?’

Malia quickly got the gist, and wrapped her legs around Stiles’s middle, trapping him to her.

Stiles was nodding frantically; ‘Yes, fine, that’s fine, oh god, _Scott_ ,’ he breathed against her neck, and Malia had to admit, that wasn’t the turn off she thought it would be, particularly since she was holding Stiles to her, feeling his hard dick rubbing off the V of her crotch, as Scott rimmed him from behind.

Stiles was making tiny noises of distress against her neck, managing every now and then to kiss her or touch her, but for the most part she just held him and whispered into his ear as Scott took him apart. Stiles yelped sharply when Scott tried to add a finger, and Malia quickly pointed out a drawer where he’d find lube. As Scot disappeared to go get it, suit jacket and shirt hitting the floor as he did so, totally uncoordinated, Stiles got very interested in Malia again. He buried his face in her breasts, kissing her tenderly and slipping one hand down to rub at her panties, which she was still unfortunately wearing. She murmured, pleased, at the contact, and tilted her hips up slightly into his touch. Stiles kept his hand there, rubbing slow circles and pressing more firmly every few seconds, when Scott returned with the lube and his fingers.

Scott worked Stiles openly slowly, pressing kisses to his skin whenever the burn got too intense. Stiles rutted against Malia as Scott fingered him, the friction through her underwear becoming almost unbearable until she was pushing her underwear aside and begging Stiles to make something _happen_.

‘Stiles, if you don’t put something in me, you’re fired,’ Malia panted, one arm stretched out behind her head over the arm of the couch, the other gripping Stiles’s hair. He had his arms on either side of her body, tensed under Scott’s ministrations, but he grinned at her strident tone and obediently slipped one finger inside of her. She moaned, oversensitive from arousal, but thrust her hips up into it anyways. Stiles fingered her slowly, because he knew it drove her mad, that little grin on his face the whole time. He kissed her lips, her cheek, the underside of her jaw, and let one hand stray to her breasts, squeezing and pulling at her nipples as he rubbed her clit, to the point where she was almost struggling to get away. She was going to dock his pay, at _least_.

Then Scott was unzipping. They both froze at the sound, and now Malia was the one grinning.

‘You ready for this, Stiles?’ she murmured in his ear, tongue darting out to lick his earlobe. ‘You ready for that big cock? I bet he’s _huge_ , Stiles. He’s gonna fill you right up. Or have you seen it before? Maybe he’s let you suck it before. You gonna let him fuck you, Stiles? You have such a pretty ass, Scott’s gonna fuck it so hard for you.’

She whispered things like this in his ear as Scott began to push in, and Stiles’s face contorted as he dealt with what in all likelihood was a tremendous cock that Malia hoped one day to experience for herself. Scott was bent right over Stiles, one arm on his shoulder and the other on his ass, mouth against his skin, kisses slipping off as his mouth fell open. Truly, Stiles must have felt amazing.

The angle was getting awkward for them - and Stiles’s fingers had nearly stalled inside Malia - so at a gesture from her, Scott flipped Stiles over so Malia was holding him between her legs, head pillowed against her breasts, as Scott bent Stiles’s legs nearly all the way back as he fucked into him. Malia had a perfect view now and - yep, huge dong. Holy heck, she thought admiringly, listening to Stiles whimper in her arms as Scott fucked him. That was kind of impressive. Maybe she’d be giving Stiles a raise instead. Though he _was_ making her wait. He’d better have enough left to fuck her afterwards.

Stiles’s dick was rock hard and red against his stomach, but Malia batted his hands away every time he tried to touch himself. Scott had his legs pinned right back, almost doubling Stiles over against Malia, an expression of sheer bliss and desire etched all over his face. He bent down to kiss Stiles, a messy, uncoordinated, breathy thing that was mostly groans lost to the slap of skin on skin. The contrast between Scott’s clear, brown skin and Stiles’s pale limbs marked with beauty spots and small grazes from being a clumsy idiot, was entrancing for Malia. She doubted she’d be able to look at them side by side the same way again.

Stiles tensed up in her arms as Scott bore down upon him, and his cries became louder and more punched-out as Scott’s rhythm broke down into something more erratic and rough. He was close now, and Malia could feel the pressure reverberating through her too as Scott slammed into Stiles. Their voices mingled as they stumbled over each other’s names, and Scott came with a shout inside Stiles. He pressed into him, a couple of half-thrusts spilling his come until it was trickling out of Stiles’s hole. Malia watched, almost half-wild herself with arousal, and Scott pressed a kiss to Stiles’s mouth as they breathed through it, and pulled out, dripping, to sit back on the end of the couch.

Stiles, thankfully, hadn’t forgotten her, despite just getting the life almost fucked out of him. He wriggled in her arms until he was turned around and on top of her again.

‘Your turn,’ he whispered, kissing her throat. Without stopping to confirm, he slipped inside of her, dick hard and swollen, and Malia almost sobbed with relief. Stiles thrust slowly into her, hands finding all the spots they’d missed before; her sensitive abdomen, the curve of her thigh, the softness of her inner arms, and back to the swell of her breasts. Malia arched up into the contact, spreading her legs wider so Stiles could thrust deeper into her.

Abruptly Malia pushed Stiles back so they could sit up, and then continued to push him until she was on top. Scott scrambled out of the way and Malia held Stiles’s hands to her breasts. He stared up at her, transfixed, as she rode him, knowing better herself what angles to hit. She threw her head back, mouth dropping open as she found just that right spot.

Suddenly, she felt firm, warm hands slide up her hips and sides from behind. Scott pressed up against her, putting his hands over Stiles’s on her breasts and squeezed at the same time that his mouth found her neck. There he began to work on a ruthless hickey of his own as Malia picked up the pace. Stiles let his hands fall from under Scott’s to her hips and he pulled her towards him on every thrust, meeting her perfectly as she began to cry out, so close to the edge. Scott flicked her nipples, and Stiles thrust up hard into her, and she came with a silent howl, head thrown back on Scott’s shoulder. The two pressed against her, holding her and touching her as she shuddered and shook, and Stiles came a moment later with a particularly hard thrust inside her. She collapsed, or would have, if Scott hadn’t held her up, and they all ended up in a messy, sticky pile on the couch, breathing hard. Malia was feeling more than a little smug, or would have been if she could even think straight.

‘Stiles, you’re getting a raise,’ she panted. ‘You too, Scott.’

‘Thank you Ms. Tate,’ they both said in unison, sounded like shadows of their former selves.

Ms. Tate, she thought, sleepily. Yeah, I could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://coulsonszombies.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/coulsonsangels/), come say hi :)


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